


Loyalty

by SpaceAsthmatic



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Baby Legolas Greenleaf, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Friendship, Good Parent Thranduil, Greenwood, Hurt/Comfort, Little Legolas, Mirkwood, Okay Parent Oropher, Parent Thranduil, Pre-Lord of The Rings, Tragedy, War, War of the Last Alliance, supportive friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2019-09-23 21:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17088053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceAsthmatic/pseuds/SpaceAsthmatic
Summary: A story of the long and winding path Galion and Thranduil have walked together through the ages of Arda. A story of deep friendship and loyalty.And a lot of snark.





	1. Chapter 1

He hadn’t known it was Prince Thranduil he had been talking to, mostly because he had never actually met or seen the prince himself. Only heard about him, cooked for events he attended - well until about ten minutes ago when he lost his temper and then his job - and so he did not know it was him that was leaning against a tree behind the kitchens tent looking both frustrated and bored. 

Galion noticed the way the unknown blond elf looked over at him and winced slightly as if he could guess what had just happened, “That looked unpleasant, may I offer you a drink?” with absolutely no flourish he offered Galion a waterskin. 

That almost certainly did not contain water. 

“Surprisingly friendly of you.” He commented, but took it anyways.

The other elf shrugged, “I’m a friendly person.” 

It wasn’t until after he had taken a huge mouthful of it that he realized it was not wine but something much stronger. He tried valiantly not to cough but failed, and the other elf tried valiantly not to laugh but failed. 

“So what happened?” 

“Ugh,” Galion took another drink from whatever horrible substance that was, “I got excused from a job I didn’t want in the first place. My father got it for me because he has absolutely no faith in me or in my ability to accomplish anything. I simply cannot wait to tell him about this.” 

He chucked the substance back over to the other elf, “It doesn't matter to me, everyone I cooked and served for is rude, boring, and I am glad I no longer have to laugh at their terrible jokes.” 

The other elf flashed a smile for just a moment, a smile that somehow made him seem more feral and wild than pleasent, “You’re right. They are rude, boring and I wish I did not have to go laugh at their terrible jokes, but alas, if I do not you are not going to be the only one with an irate father.” 

Straightening from the tree he took one last long drink and then tossed the waterskin containing the potential actual potion to Galion, “I think you need this more than I do.” 

And then with that, he was gone. 

He figured out it was Prince Thranduil when a messenger somehow found him hours later with a letter containing the royal seal. And more of that truly horrid but effective drink. 

Galion, 

You would be surprised how easy it is to find out the name of the server who got fired in the middle of serving someone. I must admit I had a good laugh when I found out what you said, and so I have a proposition for you: It would seem I am in need of another attendent or helper of sorts and I wish to offer you the position. 

At least then you could say you got something out of this day, and away from your father. If the idea of spending so much time with me sounds unideal have another drink, or four.

Thranduil 

……………………………………………………………………………………………..

 

He knew this choice, his choice would create an impenetrable line between them, he knew that. His father was not very forgiving to begin with, and had long since lost patience with the youngest of his children. 

He had told his family weeks ago that he planned to leave with King Oropher and Prince Thranduil. His mother and sister had cried and asked him not to go, but his father had been furious and had even accused him of abandoning his family for a job that he was too irresponsible to have in the first place.

Galion had expected this response, he and Thranduil had planned this day and conversation out very carefully, and he stuck to their plan. Full of love, he kissed his mother and sister goodbye and left without a word to his father. 

Nobody came to say goodbye. Not that he was expecting them too, not really. 

But sitting atop a horse next to Thranduil, muttering jokes to one another and stifling laughter with forced coughs when Oropher gave them pointed looks was almost enough to make it not matter that they did not come. 

The king had told him just a few hours ago how appreciative and glad he was that Galion had decided to come with them, but offered him one last chance to turn back. That's when Galion had mounted his horse. 

Lindon was not his home, at least it did not feel like one anymore. The city he had once loved to explore was feeling claustrophobic and tight, he trusted Oropher and Thranduil to shape a new home for him. A better one.


	2. Chapter 2

The tree’s stretched out before them for endless miles, a green and golden homeland just for them. Safe and spacious. Free. 

 

Every day, since they had arrived at these woods, had been a long day of hard work. There was much to be done when building an entire kingdom, and learning the best ways to rule one's new people. 

 

Thranduil attended to the latter of tasks with as much care and scrutiny Galion could ever imagine him mustering for any task. He stopped to talk with every new face he saw, he asked them questions about their day, their families, and their language. He delighted at the touch of the trees in his mind and soul, and always, he yearned for more.

He allowed them to teach him anything and everything they wanted to or could, and then tried to pass on the most important bits to his father. Or was Oropher simply just his king, now? 

 

They were too alike in many ways, and not enough alike in many more. Their personalities seemed to have been formed specifically to grind against one another. Their verbal warfare was subtle but constant; Oropher seemed determined to break his wild sons iron will, and Thranduil seemed content to wholly ignore the effort. 

 

Sometimes Galion thought that the reason he and Thranduil had gotten along so well at first was that they suffered from the same ailment; loneliness

 

Thranduil tipped the wine bottle towards him, even though it no longer contained wine but that horrible substance that had originally brought them together. 

 

A substance, it turned out, that Thranduil and Ferdan brewed themselves, in secret. Against the direct instruction of both of their fathers, and apparently, at one point, King Thingol himself. Not that it ever stopped either of them. 

 

“Thank you, Galion, for coming with us.”

 

Ten years now he had been in Thranduil's service, five in Lindon and now five in Greenwood and this was the first time Thranduil had never expressed any direct gratitude that he had come. 

Thranduil cleared his throat awkwardly, he wasn’t good with niceness or sincerity, and especially not sincere niceness. “With me.”

 

Galion took a long drink of the liquid and coughed, as he always did and ignored Thranduils small cackle at his suffering, “I am happy to have accompanied you. I would rather be nowhere else.”  

 

He passed the bottle back, and they both looked out across the trees once more, sitting atop the newly completed city. 

Free.

 

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

 

“Are you going to go talk to her?” Ferdan asked, leaning around the tree Thranduil was currently nearly trembling behind while using it very effectively as a meat shield. 

 

“Me?” Thranduil squeaked, peaking around the corner where she stood laughing merrily with her friends, “Talk to her? I couldn’t possibly.” 

 

“What?” Galion laughed, “Why on Arda not?” 

 

“Do you see her?” Thranduil demanded, ducking back behind the tree trunk, “She’s perfect, in every manner. She’s smart, beautiful beyond measure, funny, did I say smart?” 

 

“You did,” Ferdan assured him. 

 

“Well, she is! And perfect! And beautiful! And-” 

 

“Smart?” Galion supplied

 

Thranduil frowned at him, “Yes.” 

 

“And that means you cannot talk to her?” Ferdan asked, “Ridiculous.” 

 

“Not ridiculous!” Thranduil insisted, cheeks turning a delightful rose color. 

 

“Well you have to have talked to her before, or you would not know how perfect and smart she is.” Galion countered, crossing his arms and leaning casually against the tree in an effort to make their oogling cluster less suspicious looking. 

 

“I did! And then I found out that she’s perfect! And now my throat swallows my tongue every time she’s around and I think I black out but still somehow talk!” 

 

“You’re a sad, strange, little prince.” Ferdan laughed, ignoring the glare his childhood friend burned into him, “Did you know that?” 

 

“Is that what we were talking about?” Thranduil asked, “No! It wasn’t!” 

 

“Don’t look now, smooth talker.” Galion warned, “Here she comes.” 

 

“What?” Thranduil demanded, and made as if he planned to sprint away into the nearby bushes but both his friends each hooked one of his arms through theirs to prevent his escape, “No! Let me go! No! No! I don’t deserve this! I’m going to make a fool of myself!” 

 

Galion peaked back around the tree to see how much time they had, a few seconds yet. “Just ask her about her work with the healers, okay? She started her work as their scribe recently.” 

 

“How do you know that?” 

 

“Because I’m not a sniveling elfling!” 

 

They both released their captive as she came around the side of the tree, leaning against the trunk of the trunk if the tree in what they hoped was a semblance of casual. 

 

She jumped slightly in surprise upon finding them there, “Oh! Hello, Prince Thranduil.” She curtsied with respect, “I apologize, I did not mean to nearly run into you, I was not paying attention to where I was going.” 

 

Galion and Ferdan exchanged a glance, was it their imaginations or did she sound half as flustered as Thranduil? 

 

“Oh, no! I mean, it was not your fault, but mine.” Galion had watched Thranduil stare down even the most intimidating of the king's court, including the king, and not to mention those he did not get along with in Lindon. But under her deep, warm brown eyes he fidgeted. “I mean, I should not be standing so hidden and not expect something as such to happen. I mean, its perfectly all right.” 

 

She smiled kindly, and Galion was just a bit afraid Thranduil might faint, “Why  _ are _ you standing so hidden with the tree?” 

 

He managed a smile, the likes of which Galion had never seen on his face before, so clear and bright. And then he blinked and cleared his throat, “I am hiding from my father, I am not where I am supposed to be.” 

 

“Are you ever?” She asked, voice soft and amused.

 

That smile returned to Thranduil's face, “No. Not often.” 

 

She smoothed the skirts of her dress, “That is good then, if you were, I fear I would not have the opportunity to see you.” 

 

A blush crept to Thranduil's ears and Galion resisted the urge to smack Ferdan in the arm in victory, “You are working as a scribe in the healing wing, correct?” 

 

She tilted her head to the side, confused at the sudden change in topic, “Yes, why?” 

 

“Well,” He fidgited again, “If my father is ever somehow able to force me to be where I am supposed to be, accidents do happen. I could fall out of a tree and break an arm, then I could see you again.” 

 

She laughed and it appeared as if Thranduil had heard the music from Eru himself. “Well, if you run out of bones to break and still want to talk with me, might I suggest a letter?” Her own ears turned scarlet, “Galion knows where I work. Excuse me, I’m late.” 

 

Thranduil stepped aside, even though he wasn’t really in the way, “Of course.”

 

Like a startled deer she fled back up through the forest towards the city. 

 

Thranduil turned to his friends with a beautifully dazed expression. “Did you hear that?” 

 

“We heard,” Galion answered. 

 

“I can write her a letter.” He leaped with victory into the air, raising both hands over his head with a cheer, “She doesn't think I’m an idiot!” 

 

“Well,” Ferdan started before Galion could, “She didn’t say  _ that _ she just said that you could write her a letter.” 

  
  


**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0oo**

 

“Where is he?” 

 

Galion cleared his throat and tried to sidestep the king, but Oropher didn't allow it, “Who?” 

 

The King swallowed a snarl, “Don't play games with me, Galion. Thranduil.” 

 

He was good at games, “I couldn't possibly know.” 

 

Oropher took a step closer, enforcing how much taller he was than Galion, “No?”

 

He made a show of thinking about it for a moment, “Nope, nothing.” 

 

“He's not out with that Elleth? Again?” The king's voice was dangerously flat. 

 

They both knew that he was. 

 

“I'm not sure how you expect me to answer further questions, my king, when I have already assured you twice that I do not know anything about Prince Thranduil's whereabouts.” 

 

They both knew that he did. 

 

“I am but a humble servant to the prince, if he were to tell such thing to any elf, it would be somebody greater than I, surely.” 

 

They both knew that he was anything but a humble servant. 

 

“I apologize, your majesty, for my ignorance.” 

 

They both knew he didn't mean it. 

 

He blinked with innocent eyes.

 

“Tell me where my son is or-” 

 

“You will dismiss me from his service?” Galion crossed his arms, stance as firm as any tree in their forest. “Banish me from the home you yourself invited me to? Send me back to Lindon?”

 

They both knew how well Thranduil would react to that. 

 

Galion was not stupid, he knew he was toying a very thin and explosive line. Thranduil's temper was unpredictable, but his fathers was worse. 

 

And the king did not like to be disobeyed. 

 

Sometimes it was as if the forest was not big enough to contain both the prince and the king

 

“She is not good for him, Galion. He loses all sense when she is involved, he loses himself in her. She changes him, too much.” His jaw clenched, “I have not known him since he met her.”

 

“With respect, sir, I don't think you've known him for quite sometime before that. This is just the first time you noticed.” 

 

Oropher blinked at him, and he waited for the end; of his service or perhaps his life. But the king just kept staring, and Galion got the feeling that he had finally grabbed the full attention of the king. 

 

A difficult thing to do. 

 

It often felt as if the king listened only to respond, and he talked only to win. 

 

“You do not recognize him because he is happy, for once. He is so happy. They are going to be married, maybe not any day soon but I know that they will. And if you already feel as though you do not know your own son, then I suggest you do not try and stand in his way on this.” 

 

That had probably overdone it. 

 

Judging by the look in the king's eye it had definitely overdone it. 

 

Well, then he might as well not hold his tongue now. “If you make it so that they have to leave to be together, they will leave. And if you dismiss me from his service I will just be waiting for that day to go with him. I have traveled all this way by his side and I have absolutely no intention of abandoning him now.” 

 

He cleared his throat and straightened his shirt, hoping his hands didn't look as trembly as they felt, “Goodnight, your majesty.” 

 

Somehow, Oropher let him pass and Galion resisted the urge to sprint down the hall and around the corner. He didn't slow his steps until after his bedroom door had closed behind him. 


	3. Chapter 3

Galion relaxed against the wall outside the meeting room, waiting for Thranduil to finish and emerge. He had a stack of papers in his arms in need of signing, two messages that needed responses and a letter from Mereneth. 

 

They had both been up before dawn and Galion felt bad for his prince. He couldn't imagine the mental energy it required to solve all of the continuous problems and urgent messages. 

 

The door banged open, right on time. 

 

Fully expecting Galion go be standing there Thranduil looked to him immediately, not breaking stride “Alright, let's have it.” 

 

He passed Thranduil a quil, “Sign.” 

 

Thranduil didn't even ask what they were for or for who, he just allowed Galion to flip through the stack if papers swiftly. 

 

Galion took the utensil back. 

 

“I have a message from Ferdan and your father, which one do you want first?” 

 

“Which one am I going to hate less?” 

 

Galion wobbled his hand back and forth, “Eh.” 

 

“Perfect. My father's, then.” 

 

“You are to ride for Mordor in three weeks. Ready or not, you and your warriors will be departing.” 

 

Thranduil growled with displeasure deep in his throat, “And if we do not have proper provisions? Food? Medical supplies? What does he expect us to do? Does he want half of my men to die on the way there? If he insists on three weeks then the warriors are going to need more coin to buy already ready supplies from any human town that can spare them.” 

 

Galion ran the message through in his head, twice, to make sure he wouldn't forget it. He had long given up on trying to write things down most of the time. 

 

“Ferdans?” 

 

“None of the Avari tribes will ride with us. They say that the Noldor were the ones to create this problem and they will not let their children die to fix it. I hate to say it, but there are quite a few of our own people who feel the same. He isn't confident there won't be deserters.” 

 

“Let me think about my response during my next meeting. Where am I going?” 

 

“The head healer, to discuss which and how many healers are to accompany you and what you will need to buy them for supplies.” 

 

“Right, yes.” 

 

Reaching into his coat he grabbed the envelope he has hidden there, the king would have recognized her writing on it and neither he nor Thranduil wanted to have that argument with the king so close to war. “And a letter.” 

 

Thranduil's expression softened as he took it, a temporary break in the clouds during a gray week, and put it in his own pocket as he headed onto the next meeting. 

 

“I'll see you when you are done,” Galion promised and then turned back the way he had just come to deliver his message, and do a hundred other things. 

 

**0p0p0p0o0p**

 

He would never forget the look on his father's face when he road up to Gil-Galads camp on the behalf of King Thranduil and Prince Thranduil. 

 

Neither of them acknowledged the other. 

 

He did not meet with the High King, but with his herald, Elrond. He had always remembered liking Elrond in Lindon, he was a gentle, soft soul. 

 

With a surprising and delightfully corrupt sense of humor at times. 

 

Elrond seemed to remember liking him as well because he smiled cheerfully when Galion entered the tent, “Galion! Still serving Prince Thranduil, after all this time? I'm impressed!” 

 

He found a returning smile easy to muster, “He's not so bad if you only listen to half the things he says.” 

 

Elrond laughed, “I will take your word for it. You are not fighting today, are you?” 

 

Elrond himself looked ready for glorious battle or to be posed for a painter. Galion looked down at his light armor, the one he only wore at Thranduil's insistence, and the sword he had not touched for nearly five years before this day. 

 

And even then only in practice. 

 

“Me? Valar no. I will be running King Orophers camp while they were gone.”

 

Elrond let out a loud, low whistle, “Look at you. And you told me you were hardly more than a messenger boy.”

 

Galion blinked, that had been true once. He wasn't sure when he became a small co-conductor to the symphony that was Greenwood the Great. He stood a little taller, “I mean, I do deliver messages.” 

 

Elrond handed him a scroll, “Then this is yours to deliver. Excuse me, my king needs me. As I assume, does yours.” 

 

“I do not serve the king,” Galion corrected, it seemed important to clarify for some reason. “I serve the prince.” 

 

Elrond gave him a look Galion couldn't quite interpret but also didn't really care about. “Yes, I suppose you do. Goodluck, Galion. I hope that after this you still have a Prince to serve.”

 

Galion had been trying very hard not to think about that. The death of the one that had grown surprisingly close and important to him, “And you a King.” 

 

They departed with good will lingering in the air behind them.

 

**O0o0p0o0p0p0**

 

The battle was over, he had been told. Actually, the battle had ended around two hours ago, apparently. But the camp had been too swamped with the injured and dying to notice. Or to register. 

 

Finally, somehow, Galion was able to surface from the chaos in time to see the newest messenger. He knew it was not good news by the look on his pale, grief-stricken face. “What happened?” 

 

“King Oropher has fallen in battle.”  

 

Galion blinked. It was hard to imagine anything getting the best of Oropher, and even harder to imagine Thranduil letting it happen. There was no being on Arda walking in the light or the dark that would be allowed to harm his father, except perhaps, Thranduil himself.  

 

Oropher was gone. 

 

“And Prince Thranduil?” 

 

The messenger shrugged helplessly, “They have yet to find him. Not even among the dead.” 

 

There was a sound in his ears that sounded like the waves of the ocean, loud and punishing. Screaming. 

 

No. Not Thranduil. 

 

Not acceptable. 

 

Without a word Galion marched past the messenger and onto the battlefield on their doorstep, ignoring the bodies that littered the ground like fall leaves. 

 

**0909009090909090909090**

 

He was so numb to his surroundings that he did not notice at first that the warrior in the colors of Gil-Galad was talking to him, specifically. Not his companions he had been searching the dead with. 

 

Somehow, the ocean in his ears allowed him to focus enough to realize it was his father's bloody hand had reached to try and stop him, “Galion, stop! It is not safe! The battlefield is not clear yet, go back and away.” 

 

But he ripped himself away, he was far from a warrior but he was not useless with a sword. The King had not allowed such a thing if Galion was going to be around the Prince constantly be might as well be able to try and help defend him should the time come. 

 

“I don't care!” 

 

But his father was relentless and charged after him, stepping in front of him and gripping both shoulders, “They will find the body of your king. You do not need to go and search for him.”

 

He twisted out of the grasp once more, heart thrumming in his ears, “I am not looking for the king's body! I am here to help my prince!” Then, at the top of his lungs, he shouted, “Thranduil!” 

 

His sword grasped in his hand Galion pushed past his father again, this time he did not follow, “Thranduil!” 

 

**0o0o0o0o0o0**

 

“Galion!” 

 

He turned, tripping over the hand of the dead. He did not look to see if it an elf, man, or Orc. He did not want to know. Glorfindel was approaching him, Elrond close by his side. 

 

He had heard about the fate of their king. They had obviously heard about the fate of his. 

 

Galion began to make his way towards them, the pair were covered in all kinds of filth and exhaustion. Elrond, it appeared, still had not been able to stop his tears for his king and cousin, his best friend. 

 

Only Mandos knew how many other people they had both lost this day. 

 

All three came to a stop near one another, Glorfindel steadying Elrond when he stumbled and Galion did not miss that he did not retract his protective grip. “Thranduil? Have you seen him?” 

 

Glorfindel shook his head grimly, “Not since near the end of the battle. But he was very much alive and fighting.”  

 

“Where was that? Please? Where?” 

 

Glorfindel pointed back the way he and Elrond had just come, back near the base of the mountain, while Elrond continued to stare forward rather blankly. “Somewhere back there, just beyond the second hill.” 

 

Galion nodded to Elrond, “Is he alright?” Reaching into the bag his numb fingers and brain had been smart enough to grab from the camp before he left he offered one the few water skins he had brought, “Here.” 

 

Glorfindel accepted it on behalf of Elrond, looking relieved. “He will be okay, thank you, Galion. I hope you find Thranduil.” 

 

The two stumbled on into the endless waves of empty and twisted shells, and Galion wadded farther into the ocean of battlefield around them. 

 

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

 

He had never been so glad to see that that infuriating blond head before in his life. “Thranduil!”

 

The head snapped in his direction, away from the trauma center he seemed to be helping running, but continued to carry the injured warrior in his arms with the same extreme care and grace. 

 

Once he had settled him on the space cleared, he quickly began making his way over to Galion, who, for his part nearly began to run down the hill. 

 

“You idiot!” Thranduil was already yelling while they were still several feet apart, “You should have stayed far away from here! What are you doing?” 

 

Galion came to a stop, all his coiled nerves springing themselves open with a somewhat hysterical laugh, “I came to help you, you idiot! Obviously!” 

 

Tears swam in Thranduil's eyes and he took a few deep breaths, “He’s gone.” 

 

He took one of Thranduil's hands, “I know.”

 

He blinked away the tears, “You came to help me.” 

 

“Yes. Always.” He squeezed Thranduil's hand, “You would be a useless mess without me.” 

 

“Yes. Probably.” He turned away and back towards the injured, “Come and help, then. There is much to do.” 

 

**0o0o0oo00o0o0o0o0o0**

 

With empty eyes and the imaginary crown nearly hunching his shoulders, Thranduil stared over what was left of his army. Hardly a third of the force they had come with. They had been sitting like this for three hours now, saying nothing. 

 

“He charged before he was supposed to.” He didn’t blink, he didn't twitch and his eyes looked no less dead, “I tried to convince him away from it. I tried to keep us behind the line. He was furious with me for undermining him.” 

 

Galion tried his best not to stare his friend. He knew Thranduil well, better than most, but there was no navigating this kind of grief easily and he feared what it would mean for his soul. 

 

Thranduil had told him about the kinslaying in Doriath, once, and the death of his mother. He had told him that the day still felt like ice in his heart. 

 

“I tried to physically hold him back but he shoved me off and charged. I had to follow. I had to. He’s my father.” 

 

“I’m sorry, Thranduil.” 

 

Thranduil looked away from his sleeping camp for the first time in too long and down to his hands, the hands that Galion had to scrub clean for him because after there was no more pressing matter for him to attend to his brain seemed to lose its ability to function as a whole. 

 

It reminded him achingly of Elrond from earlier in the day. 

 

“Me too, Galion. Me too.” 


	4. Chapter 4

It had been a few years since there was a time that Galion couldn't even hazard a guess as to what Thranduil might do. He was still not a predictable elf by any means, especially not with his words. Pridefully, not with his words. 

 

But he was with his emotions. 

 

Since the fall of his father, Galion wasn't entirely sure if Thranduil had felt much emotion at all. 

 

And so he lingered in the doorway in the council chamber after he had assembled all the various Sindar Lords and Silvan Elders. Officially, he should not have been here, but no one would even attempt to try and get him to leave. 

 

Thranduil did not sit at the head of the table, and the crown did not rest on his head.  

 

They all waited for him to say something. Ferdan found Galion in the doorway and raised an eyebrow, all he could do was shrug and shake his head in return. 

 

“The Silvan people, our people, have never believed in ruling by birthright. And so I concede the throne to the one the council, together, deems worthy of such an honor and responsibility.” 

 

The Sindar Lords shared alarmed expressions but we're wise enough not to say anything. Thranduil stood, making to excuse himself from the room. 

 

Outside the city Galion felt the forest. He was not yet connected enough with it as a whole to understand what it was trying to convey, but he did know that there was a  _ lot  _ of it. 

 

His heart lurched in his chest and a sense of foreboding and displeasure shot threw him. Still there was more, so many emotions he has no name or experience with.

 

There was so much. 

 

Sadness. Anger. Fear. And love. So much love he was warm with it. Burning. 

 

And then it stopped, and so did Thranduil. 

 

Like his soul had been snapped back into place Thranduil's eyes glowed with determination and racing thoughts once more. 

 

Grandesh, one of the oldest among the Silvans got to his feet and walked around the other side of the table. Neglecting the crown completely he carefully plucked two blooming flowers and tucked one into each braid on the sides of his head. 

 

“The forest has spoken, and her people agree. There is none other we would have as King.” 

 

**0o0o0p0p0p0**

 

“Thranduil, what on earth are you doing?” Galion muttered, still half asleep. His official coronation was tomorrow, and only two hours ago Galion had barely managed to get him into bed before he fell asleep. 

 

Well, he was full of energy now. 

 

He went to his dresser drawers and began throwing random pieces of an outfit together on the bed. “I’m getting married, want to come?” 

 

Like gears that had sand thrown into them, his mind churned in an effort to understand, “I - you’re, what? No, you’re having a coronation tomorrow.” 

 

“Yes. And I’m getting married tonight. Before the start of the new day.” 

 

“You’re insane! Why? Why is this happening? Does it have to be in the middle of the night, do you not want   more, oh I don't know, planned!” 

 

He started getting dressed anyway. 

 

“Because if we are married before the new day and before I am King she will always be first, and there is no one who can tell me otherwise. I can be Thranduil, her husband, before I am a King.” 

 

Well, there wasn’t any arguing with that, “You have somebody to marry you?” 

 

“Yes. You. In the garden, come.”

 

“Okay, now I know you’re insane.” 

 

“Who else?” 

 

The marriages prayers were meant to be said by the mother and father of the betrothed, and in the case, they were gone to the halls, the duty fell to another family member. Except… 

 

Mereneth’s brother and father had not come back from the gates of Mordor either, and her mother died in childbirth. 

 

“You are my family, Galion. There is nobody else I would have wanted.” 

 

The sentiment nearly brought him to tears and he cleared his throat to try and breath again, “Yes, well. Considering my own family didn’t even want me most of the time, that is not a case for your defense.” 

 

Thranduil grinned, bursting with anticipation, joy, and love, “Probably not. Come, we do not even have an hour left!” 

 

It was hard not to match his friend's attitude. 

 

He had never married anyone before. 

 

**0o0o0o0o**

 

They had respected Oropher as their King. 

 

But they loved Thranduil.  

 

Because he loved them, these beautiful people. He loved everything about them and their forest home.

 

And they loved that instead of wearing his fathers gold crown, he let any elfling who had a flower crown to offer pile it on top of his head, while Mereneth, his wife, braided flowers into his hair. 

 

They loved their queen too, and were delighted to hear about the rushed marriage. They had watched their prince fall in love so thoroughly for years, and heard some of the arguments had about it. 

 

Or heard gossip about it, anyway. 

 

Galion could not have been more proud, and he wasn’t sure who was more surprised him or Thranduil when they began to tear when he tried to say as such. 

 

The coronation was turned from a formal affair to a mid-summer dance under the stars before it was even halfway through. They all just wanted to be happy. 


	5. Chapter 5

Galion wandered out into the middle of the field Thranduil had found and sprawled in under the stars, blonde hair glowing silver in the light. He wasn't shoes and judging by the simplicity of his clothes he had gotten out of bed to do this. 

 

For some reason. 

 

Without a word or invitation, Galion laid down near him, their heads resting near one another, both staring at the stars. 

 

“Am I a good king, Galion?” 

 

With such vulnerability sown into the words he didn't dare to hesitate, “Yes. The best any of us could have ever hoped for.” 

 

“It seems like everything I do is wrong for one reason or another, no matter how carefully I weigh the options.” 

 

“That is because not every solution fits perfectly for every person, and those who disagree are always louder than the ones who do.” 

 

“I suppose.” Thranduil sighed, “All the times my father was here to tell me what to do, and I never listened. I would give my left arm for just one more piece of advice.” 

 

Galion smiled and bumped his head into Thranduil's, “He would probably tell you to stop staying up so late so you wouldn’t have so many empty hours to doubt yourself.” 

 

Thranduil laughed and the stars looked happier for it, “You’re probably right.” 

 

“I usually am.” 

 

“I miss him so much, Galion. All we did was shout when he was here but now my life seems so quiet that he’s gone.”  

 

“I can yell more if that would help you feel better.” 

 

“I appreciate the offer, but you yell enough as it is.” 

 

“Bold words, my king, bold words.”

 

They watched the stars awhile, and the stars watched back. 

  
  


**O0o0o0o0o0o0**

Galion could hear what he sincerely hoped was only laughter from behind Thranduil and Mereneths closed bedroom door. In the morning he had no fear, but at night..

 

He paused outside, and shouted, “Hello! I need to come in please don't be doing anything I don't want to see!” 

 

He waited a few seconds before pushing the door open, very slowly waiting for a shout for him to stop. There was none, so he peaked his head around the corner of the door. To his releif Thranduil had already up in curiosity, “What happened?

 

“Something's bothering the eastern forest, Ferdan wants to go check it out.” 

 

“What does he think it is?” 

 

Galion shrugged, “He didn't say.” 

 

Thranduil flopped back with a heavy sigh, and then a long and drawn out goran, “I'll be there in a moment.” 

 

**0o0o0o0**

 

He tried to keep his eyes ahead of him, but they strayed the second she smiled at him. He hoped he smiled, but he honestly wasn’t sure. He felt the blush creep to his cheeks as she whispered, “Hello, Galion.” Too shy to say anything more with Thranduil, the king, walking next to him. 

 

He focused on putting one foot in front of the other with his heart beating so quickly it feel like he might need to lay down. 

 

Thranduils voice was obviously delighted, “Do I get the rest of the sentence? Or do I have to guess?” 

 

“I-” He tried to think about what they had been talking about. All thoughts wiped clean with the memories of dancing with her for so long at the last dance. He hand’t even gone to bed when he began the next day. It was well worth it. “What?” 

 

Somehow Thranduil kept his face in a semblance of straight. “The sentence you were saying. Do I get to hear it?” 

 

Against his better judment he turned to look as she walked away, the blush returning with vengene when she did the same. “Honestly, no. I dont think it was important anyway.”

 

At that Thranduil laughed wholeheartidly, not careing for the looks he was getting or that it tended to echo when he was in such an open space. “Was that Faeneth?” 

 

Galion cleared his throat, “Maybe.” Like he was living out his worst nightmare Thranduil turned to look again, “Valar sake! Would you be subtle!” 

 

Thranduil turned back around, laughing again, “You’re the one screaming about subtly in public.”

 

“I hate you.” 

 

“So quit.” 

 

They stopped outside the door Thranduil was heading too for another meeting about something Galion had already forgotten, “Unlikely. You’d die.” 

 

“She seems nice, Galion.” 

 

“She said two words.” 

 

“They were a nice two words,” Thranduil placed his hand on the doorknob but didn’t turn it, “My personal suggestion-” 

 

“I dont want your personal suggestion.” 

 

“Is go catch up to her and ask her to dinner. But that just from me. A married elf, married to an elleth so far above me that she ought to be a star.” 

 

Galion turned away, “Ugh, go away.” 

 

Thranduil entered the room with one last laugh, and then Galion tried not to run  _ too  _ fast to heed his advice. 

 

**0o0o0p0o0o0o0o0o0o**

  
  


Galion waited anxiously outside the door for hours, waiting for it to be over. The midwives had tried to keep Thranduil from the room, and lasted hardly half an hour. 

 

Finally,  _ finally  _ the door opened. He didn't even wait for the poor midwife to say anything before he ran into the room to see his family. 

 

Thranduil sat at the head of the bed holding Mereneth close as she lay nestled between his legs, looking the most content and happy Galion had ever seen her. Neither even looked up as he came in, all attention directed towards the bundle cradled in her arms. 

 

Like a shadow he approached the bed, stopping at the edge. Only then did Thranduil look up, “Come Galion, on the bed.” 

 

That was all the encorgemnt he needed before he slid himself across the space to where the royal family lay. “This is Legolas, our son.” 

 

Huge blue eyes sparkled up at him, and he was graced with a delighted and toothless grin.

 

Galion could feel himself falling in love with him already, “Hello little Prince, I have been waiting to meet you.” 

 

With a almost soundless laugh he reached out the smallest hands Galion was certain he had ever seen, freely and gently he offered a finger to them. 

 

“Now remember, I am your favorite no matter what your Ada or Nana say to convince you otherwise.” 

 

Mereneth kissed Galions cheek, “Would you like to hold him?” 

 

“More than anything in the entire world.” 

 

**O0o0p0o**

Galion looked over to where Thranduil’s head rested in Mereneth lap, eyes closed to sheild them from the sunlight. “Is he asleep?” 

 

“Yes.” She smilled and continued to run her hand through his hair to keep him asleep. 

 

“He deserves it.” 

 

Nearby Legolas laughed with delight as he jumped off a small ledge and into the water where Ferdan waited for him, pulling him into shallower waters.

 

“He deserves the world, in my opinion.” 

 

“I guess he’ll just have to settle for the forest.” There was more laughter and splashing noises, and they both turned to see Legolas very much losing a spalshing contest. Galion lept to his feet, “I’m coming little prince!” 

 

He raced jumped into the pool, close enough that Ferdan was hit with the tidal wave of his entrance. 

 

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0oo0**

 

It was burning before his very eyes. Before he even knew where it was coming from. 

 

It was everywhere. 

 

Thick smoke choked the air around him and the wounded in the healers tents screamed with fear and pain. 

 

Unrecognizable bodies swarmed around in the chaos. 

 

It took him a moment to regester that they were unrecognizable to him because they were Orcs. 

 

They must have broken through the line. Thranduil must be dead. 

 

He somehow fell into movment, trying to help other drag the burning from the tents they were trapped in, while the few soldires in the camp left tried to keep them from getting stabbed. 

 

The solduires in the camp didn’t last long. 

 

Quickly, any who could stand were running. Even if they could get the wounded out of the tents, the Orcs shot them with arrows for sport. 

 

Galion gasped as he felt a sword slide between his ribs. 

 

He fell to the ground. 

 

The world burned around him. 

 


	6. Chapter 6

He crawled back to the world of the living through sheer determination alone. 

 

 

Embracing the burning in his throat from the ash and heat, and the searing in his back, near the bottom of his ribcage. 

 

 

His eyes opened unwillingly to the dull gray sky. A suggestion of a once great forest lurked on the edge of his view. He didn't need to look around to know that he was the only thing alive nearby. 

 

 

Not even a shrub reached out to him. 

 

 

He thought about closing his eyes, going back to sleep. Forgetting. 

 

 

Forgetting everything. 

 

 

Thranduil. Thranduil might still be alive, and if he wasn’t, then Mereneth and Legolas would need all the help any could offer. 

 

 

Instead of closing his eyes, he blinked. Giving his eyes the rest the craved for only a moment before dragging them back open. 

 

 

Then slowly, carefully, teeth gritted with pain, he pushed himself up. 

 

 

Against his will he gasped with pain, managing to wrap an arm around where he thought the wound was. 

 

 

Around him, the dead lay everywhere. Some entirely burnt, some half. Some, like him, managed to stay largely untouched. 

 

 

How did he live when none others had? 

 

 

He blinked again. 

 

 

Thranduil. Legolas. Mereneth.

 

 

He had to go. He had to find them. 

 

 

First, he had to get up. 

 

 

0o0o0o

 

 

The world spun around him in an unrecognizable blur, the image of the home they had labored so hard to build laid to waste burned in the back of his mind. He hadn’t entered the city, had not even gone through the gates. He did not need or want to see it to know that there would be nothing left there. 

 

 

The tree’s continued to pull him along. The forest slowly growing stronger the farther he managed to walk from where he woke, leaning heavily on a tree branch as a crutch. 

 

 

“Galion!” The words were hard to register at first, they seemed far away, or as if he were underwater. 

 

 

They didn’t seem real. 

 

 

“Galion!” And then somebody was grabbing ahold of his arms, taking even more of his weight than the branch did. “Sit, sit, let me see you.” 

 

 

Then he was lowered to the ground, his shirt roughly pushed up as the face finally swam into view. More concerned than he would have liked, but still as stern as ever. “Ferdan.” 

 

 

A thick paste was applied over the wound, but he did not have the energy to react to the pain. Strong hands began to tightly bind it, confidently wrapping layer after layer of some sort of bandage around his middle. “Yes, Galion. It's me. “ 

 

 

Abandoning his side, Ferdan came to kneel in front of where Galion had been deposited to sit against a tree. Gently, but firmly, he placed hands on either side of his face, “Where else are you hurt?” 

 

 

Galoin thought about it, or at least tried to. “I don't think...I don't think that I am...”

 

 

He didn't remove his hands, “Are you sure?”   

 

 

Suddenly, a thought struck him. “Thranduil?” 

 

 

Ferdan quickly began running his hands over Galions body, apparently checking for himself there were no more wounds. “Alive. Though, I fear, once the shock wears off he’s going to wish he wasn’t.” 

 

 

If he had any blood left in his body to go cold, it did. “Mereneth?” 

 

 

Ferdan’s hands stilled near his ankles, he didn’t meet Galions eye when he shook his head. 

 

 

“Legolas?” 

 

 

“We didn't find his body with hers but...not even the trees have found a trace of him. Or all that knew burned and their voice was lost.” 

 

 

Galion didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know what to think, or perhaps, at this point, he didn’t know how to think. Ferdan patted his ankle and stood up, apparently satisfied. “Thank the Valar he still as you.” 

 

 

“Legolas could still be out there, like I was. There were no trees but maybe he found somewhere else to to stay.” 

 

 

Ferdan didn't say anything, just motioned to two of the warriors to bring the stretcher over and helped Galion onto it. 

 

 

“How long ago did it happen?” Ferdan tried to turn away again, but Galion grabbed at his arm. 

 

 

“Yesterday, early afternoon.” 

 

 

“What time is it now?” 

 

 

“Almost nightfall.” 

 

 

Legolas was so small. So young. Ferdan patted him on the arm and stood as two others lifted him from the ground. 

 

 

He must have passed out not long after that. 

 

 

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

 

 

When he awoke next he seemed to be laid on the ground, though thanks to a bed of leaves it was comfortable. Looking to the side he realized he was just another in a long line of wounded Silvans. 

 

 

He sat up with a struggle, and then used the healer that came to tell him to stop to get to his feet. “You have enough to take care of, leave me be.” 

 

 

“The King will have my head if you wander away and die.” 

 

 

“I appreciate the concern, but I have to go and look after the King.” He ignored constant burning from his wound, and patted the healer on the shoulder. “Goodbye.” 

 

 

He made to move past but the healer stepped in front again, this time holding a proper crutch, “At least reduce the risk of you dying.” 

 

 

He accepted it, “Your sincerity continues to inspire.” 

 

 

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

 

 

It was easy to find where Thranduil was, it always was. Even in this completely unknown part of the forest by the mountain they did not often visit, and his speed reduced to a suggestion of a hobble. 

 

 

One just had to follow the trail of frantic bodies coming and going with some sort of purpose. Follow them far enough and you would find the King. 

 

 

Thranduil, perceptive as always, saw him first. “Away.” Everyone fled into the tree’s to leave him and Galion alone. 

 

 

He did not look well. 

 

 

He looked like he should have been laying next to him in the mass of the wounded and not directing a crumbling kingdom. For the second time in a century. Now that everyone else was gone Thranduil stood so still he almost did not look alive, until, finally, he blinked. 

 

 

“I’m sorry I left you, they told me that none had survived when they looked, I never would have allowed them to leav-”

 

 

Galion hobbled closer, “Thranduil, I’m so sorry.” 

 

 

Thranduil’s face strained with the effort of not reacting to the words, “Don’t say that. You can’t say that. Because then-” His voice wavered dangerously, “Because then I will forget how to breath again and I only just remembered, and then I’ll remember that my blood feels like ice-” He managed to stop himself, or didn't care to finish. “You can’t say things like that to me.”  

 

 

“Aright, I won’t” He got closer still, “I won’t. I can remind you how to breath. I can remind you how to blink or speak or move if you want, I’m not above anything. We can do it together.” 

 

 

He didn't react. 

 

 

Galoin placed the hand that wasn’t holding the crutch against his chest, “Breath, Thranduil.” 

 

 

“Why should I?” 

 

 

Something was approaching quickly from the nearby forest, but stopped dead when it heard their voices. The tree’s would have told them if it were something dangerous, and so Galion wasn’t concerned when Thranduil walked closer to where it had stopped and knelt down. 

 

 

“Come on now, you don't have to be scared anymore.” Slowly, a little elfling girl snuck a peak around the corner of the tree, still too small to even climb into its branches for safety. “It’s okay little one, you’re safe.” 

 

 

She peaked around the tree again but this time did not dart back behind it, a tangled mess of black hair stuck in all directions. Galion could hear the reassuring smile in Thranduil’s voice even though he was facing away when he gently continued to encourage her, “It looks like you hurt your arm, I can help to fix it for you.” 

 

 

She stepped around the tree finally, and slowly approached. Her face was smeared with dirt and ash, “Hello.” Thranduil said softly to her, “What’s your name, little one?” 

 

 

“Avaleina.” 

 

 

“That's a very pretty name. My name is Thranduil.” 

 

 

“Hello.” Her voice was hardly a whisper. 

 

 

“Can I see your arm?”  

 

 

She nodded shyly, and he reached out with gentle hands and removed the leaves she had tried to tie around a slice in her arm, “Who taught you to do this?” 

 

 

She answered, “The tree’s” the same time as a flood of goodwill and satisfaction came from the forest around them. “They watched the healers over here and whispered instructions to me over there.”

 

 

“That is very smart of all of you,” carefully he wrapped the leaves around it again, “We need to go and see my friends for that arm, can I pick you up?” 

 

 

She nodded. 

 

 

Galion watched as Thranduil cradled her careful in his arms, got to his feet and began walking back exactly where Galion had just come from. He stopped next to where he had gone to lean against both a tree and his crutch, “You need to rest.” 

 

 

“No. I will help you. I’m a breathing instructor now, since I can’t run messages or do much of anything else at all.”

 

 

Somehow he managed to look both displeased and greatful, “I’ll have someone at least come and help you sit down until I get back.” 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Thranduil did not return with haste after taking the small elfling to the healers as promised, in fact, he did not return at all. 

 

Instead, a messenger had been sent scrambling to find him. They poor young thing looked exhausted but determined to still do what he could to help, he held his hand out to Galion, “The elfling gave this to the King, Lord Ferdan told me to bring it to you before he rode out with King by Thranduil with all haste.” 

 

A single acorn was dropped into his hand.  

 

The tree it had come from knew where Legolas was. 

 

**0o0o0oo00o0**

 

The tree’s warned them that the approaching elves were friendly long before they saw or heard them. 

 

_ Friends.  _ They kept repeating. 

 

If the forest was so certain they were friends, what was left of their kingdom after a war that was more of a slaughter than anything and the ransacking of a city was not to deny them. 

 

He recognized those that melted from the tree’s as the Avari, having often lingered in the room whenever Thranduil or Oropher had anything to do with them. They brought wagons pulled by sturdy goats heavy with food and blankets.  

 

Many times Galion had helped to organize similar outreaches from the Woodlands Realm to their neighbors and alleys. The one in the lead, from the tribe closest to them gestured in the direction of their still burning city. “We saw the smoke, and felt the hate.” 

 

Galion recognized him as the youngest son of the Cheiftain, hardly even past his majority. If he remembered correctly, two of his three older brothers had already fallen to the same darkness.

 

Reaching into the nearest cart as it rolled closer to where the Silvan elves had clustered themselves while the combed the woods for more survivors the young warriors pulled out a carefully sewn stuffed deer. He knelt on the ground and offered it to the the closest elfling that clung to his mother's leg, who snatched it gratefully and pressed it against his chest. 

 

The other warriors began to distribute the other supplies they had brought. 

 

Galion did not know many words in their language, and most Avari refused to learn the Sindiran language upon principle and he struggled with attempting to find a way to convey how thankful they were.  

 

The young warrior shook his head and put one hand on Galions shoulder, gently, and the other over his heart. 

 

He understood. 

 

**0o0o0o0o0o**

 

The only proof Galion had ever been given that there might be Valar somewhere who actually care about them, was the fact that when Thranduil entered his tent, he had Legolas in his arms. 

 

Alive. 

 

Absolutely unable to contain them, tears began to rain from his eyes at the sight. 

 

They could be okay. 

 

They  _ would  _ be okay. 

 

His wound had ached him more and more throughout the day, yet he still attempted to get to his feet. The only thing keeping him from doing so was the wound, as it sent white hot lightning pains up his back and down his leg.  

 

Bandages covered the Legolas’ feet and there seemed to be several wounds on his arms and legs, and a burn on his face but he was whole. He was here. 

 

They would be okay. 

 

It would be okay. 

 

Thranduil crossed the tent quickly, hardly succeeding at his own meager attempt at keeping his emotions in check. He gently deposited Legolas on the makeshift bed of leaves covered with a blanket next to Galion, and then promptly fell to pieces. 

 

Galion took Legolas’ trembling hands and kissed them and then pulled the little prince to lay across his chest, welcoming the little things habit of wrapping his arms around Galion neck. 

 

Not caring in the slightest about how much it hurt his injury. 

 

One arm held Legolas close, while the other came to rub Thranduil’s heaving back. “Breath, you have to breath.” 

 

Soundless sobs continued to wrack his body, and it nearly felt like Galion could feel his heart and soul cracking beneath his fingers. “In and out, you can do it.” 

 

Unable to from words, he just shook his head. 

 

“I know it hurts, and I know it's hard but you can do it. You have to keep going. Your people need you. Your son needs you.” 

 

Thranduil sat up suddenly and pounded his fits into the hard earth with an anguished scream that echoed into the very roots of every tree in the forest and bones of every creature. He laid back on the bed, and continued to cry. 

 

But at least he was breathing. 

 

Legolas moved from his arms and to his father, attaching securely to his chest. Thranduil held him close, repeatedly telling his son how much he loved him. 

 

**o0o0o0o0o0oo0o**

 

Can’t wait to hear your thoughts! 


	8. Chapter 8

Galion couldn't resist himself from following when the messenger said that Ferdan was returning with a 'Guardian of the Forest.'

 

Considering, as far as he could tell, Thranduil was the only guardian left. 

 

Galion exchanged an excited smile with Legolas, who was riding safely upon his father's shoulders. 

 

An old man sat under a tree waiting for them, having a discussion with a lizard that crawled back up his sleeve when it sensed the elves approaching. A bird tweeted from beneath his tall hat, and Legolas laughed. 

 

The wizard smiled at the elfling and took the hat off to expose a small nest of birds; who began to tweet in a chorus. "They like you, little woodland prince, and are glad your Ada found you safe."

 

Legolas tried to whistle part of the tune back but wasn't able to and so Thranduil did it for him. Tears that his son could not see coming to his eyes when Legolas laughed again as the birds sang even louder. 

 

"Thank you." Thranduil said. "We have not met, but I have felt your presence in the woods now and then, but never for long." 

 

"Radagast, I believe your people have come to call me." 

 

Several of the Silvan warriors gasped and crossed their arms over their hearts, weapons thudding to the ground. 

 

Thranduil shared a confused glance with Galion. There were few things about his people left go surprise Thranduil, but still even know he was learning. 

 

"A messenger, my King." The warrior said, "For Lady Kementári." 

 

Galion watched as Thranduil blinked several times in surprise, but at least he managed to close his mouth. It was on occasions like these that Galion was glad he could just stand there like a rock and watch things happen. 

 

He was fairly certain nothing he could come up with would have been dignified enough for such a situation. 

 

Thranduil said, "We are honored." 

 

The being that presented as an old man but was almost definitely anything but hummed and tutted to himself, "I daresay you are anything but, dear King Thranduil. Anything but. Long has my Lady kept a watchful eye over your people, but long has it been since she felt it necessary to interfere." 

 

"My people have told me stories of her guidance against the darkness before my father and I arrived. But nothing since our arrival." 

 

Radagast shook his head, "No. They no longer needed it. The forest was safe." 

 

"What guidance does she send now?" 

 

"A mountain to the east is near hollow but empty. A safe place for the guardians of the forest to call their new home."

 

The old man stood, much taller than Galion had expected. He winked at Legolas again and popped his hat back on, "The Lady warned me about the delights of the forest, but even so I was not prepared. I think I would like to call it home somewhere too."

 

Thranduil spread his arms out openly, "There is more than enough room in this forest for another guardian, Radagast."

 

He thumped his staff in the ground with a few chuckles to himself,  "Goodluck, King Thranduil." 

 

Having completed what he wanted, the turned and left their presence at once. Vanishing into the trees faster than even the Silvan Elves could have. 

 

**0.0.0.**

 

Thranduil expected him to be waiting for them both outside their tent. Both, because as always Legolas hung on his father's back without an effort, arms around his neck. Sometimes he sat on his father's shoulders, or fell asleep being carried in his arms but never was the Prince put down. 

 

Both would rather die than be parted right now. 

 

Not when the burns on Leoglas’ feet still hadn’t healed. Nit when neither of them slept longer than an hour at a time. Not when they both only felt half alive. 

 

Thranduil’s singing voice tended to drift into the camp for most of the night. It was meant for his son. 

 

But the entire forest it seemed stopped to listen. 

 

Galion held out an Apple for Legolas to eat for breakfast, while he said to Thranduil. “Another of the Orphans has been claimed, thankfully. Farlen, before you ask. Two older brothers hardly above majority themselves woke among the healers last night.” 

 

Legolas perked a little bit at the mention of his friend's name, but didn't actually say anything. As far as Galion was aware, he hadn’t said anything at all. Not unless it was in the middle of the night when only Thranduil could hear him, and his King hadn’t told him.

 

Which Galion found unlikely.  

 

Thranduil absently patted his sons hands, “How many does that leave again? Five, yes?” 

 

Galion nodded. “The Birds were the ones to find the last thirty of our people, but the spokesmen for the Avari Tribes say even they have not found anyone for nearing ten hours.” 

 

“And  the mountain?” 

 

“Only a few reports have come back in much detail but it seems that its bigger than even we expected. And so far largely uninhabited. Their searching deeper, the birds leading the way to make sure there is no nasty surprises.” 

 

Thranduil hummed in thought, absently rifling through the constant information from the trees at his disposal if he wanted it. Especially now. Especially when as many of the trees burned as the elves had. “They say there has been no sign of unusual activity. Nothing to harm us.” 

 

Galion stayed silent, waiting for the decision 

 

“Still, this is not a time for haste. We will wait for the deeper inspection to be made. What else am I doing?” 

 

“Some humans appeared last night, actually. Laketown, Ravenhill, and Rootrail. They were exhausted so we offered them rest, they are not yet awake but their supplies have already been distributed. Lastly Ferdan is waiting for you about where he thinks you should set up watch’s in the meanwhile.” 

 

“Okay. There first.” 

 

**0.0.0.0.0.0.**

Thranduil had left Legolas outside the small entrance to the giant cavern, for both of their sakes. But only on the condition that both Galion and Ferdan stayed with Legolas the entire time.  

 

To distract them all Galion sat in the grass near the entrance to the mountain, one arm wrapped protectively around Legolas to hold him against his chest as he rocked back and forth and sang. The only songs his brain could remember at length were the ones his mother used to sing to him and his siblings all the time, it seemed fitting. 

 

The other elflings who had yet to be claimed were around. Two of the five seemed attached to Ferdan. The little girl who had come with the Acorn sat in his lap, while one of the boys leaned against his side, Ferdans arm resting around his shoulders. 

 

He’d always had a soft stop for elflings. Perhaps the only soft spot he had. 

 

The last three, two boys and a girl, were snuggled around someone Galion had somehow never met or seen. Ithirae. 

 

Apparently she had worked in the stables and had been allowing the elflings to help her when the Orcs attacked. Somehow, she had managed to get them out alive, across a forest and here. 

 

None of them had let go of her since. 

 

Galions song ended, and he took the opportunity to take a few sips of water. And one of the little elfings, Avaleina, took the opportunity to ask, “What happens to us when our Nana and Ada don’t come get us?” 

 

Galion almost choked on the water at ‘ _ when  _ they don’t come get us.’ 

 

Ferdan shifted her so that she sat sideways on his right thigh rather than in the middle of his crossed legs so that he could wipe her tears, “ _ If  _ that is the case, we will all make sure you are warm, safe, loved, and happy.” 

 

The poor little thing just seemed as if she was going to cry harder. 

 

“Ada will protect you.” Legolas’ voice was small but certain, and Ferdan and Galion shared at shocked glance, before Galion hugged his prince closer, “He has lots of love to give.” 

 

Ithirae kissed one of their heads, “And I will be here to help guide you for as long as you need or want me.” 

 

“We’ll make new rooms for you.” Ferdan promised Avaliena, tickling her enough to make her smile, “And stuff it full of soft blankets and toys.” 

 

One of the boys sniffed and wiped at his nose, Ithirae wiped it for him with a cloth, “What if we want somebody to read us stories?” 

 

“I’m not the smartest elf around, but I can read.” Galion said, under his chin he could feel Legolas nodding,  “If you do not believe me then you can ask the King.” 

 

“So can I.” Ithirae added. 

 

“We will all be okay.” Galion promised, taking the time to make sure every elf including Ferdan knew that sentence included them, “Even if it does not feel like it now, it will. We’ll keep fixing things until its okay, and if it's not okay then we aren't done fixing.” 

 

The crowd around them was brought to life with startled and excited whispers. After a few minutes Thranduil appeared in the patch of sunshine they had found. On newly healed and tender feet Legalas got out of Gallions arms and carefully rushed back to his father. 

 

As expected, Thranduil met Legolas more than halfway, plucking him from the ground and holding him close for several very long seconds, kissing his face and telling him how much he loved him. Then, and only then did he turn to the rest. 

 

“Say hello to our new home.” 

 

**0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0**

 

Plans were devised quickly, and work began to build another new home. 

 

No matter talents, experience or status there was a job to be found for you do. It was through sheer determination alone that Thranduil managed to make himself wake up every morning, of that Galion knew. 

 

But as long as he had his son, and his people, he would keep going. He would keep protecting and guiding. 

 

He would keep being the King they needed and loved him so much for being. 

 

Thranduil stood on what they did not yet know would become his throne ‘room.’ The very center of the largest expanse within the mountain, where he could see everything. Where everyone knew where to find him. 

 

Galon went to turn away, head filled with new orders and messages but turned back for reasons he wasn’t fully aware of. 

 

Thranduil likewise  turned back to him with a frown, Legolas still peacefully sleeping in his arms for the day was yet early, but he would not be left behind in a bed alone. 

 

“I have never once regretted my choice, Thranduil.” Galion said, knowing there was not enough elves awake to overhear them, “Not one moment since I got on my horse outside of Lindon have I regretted following you and believing in you as much as I do. Not once.” 

 

Thranduil looked near stunned, apparently too surprised for words. A rare occurrence. Galion spared him the indignity of it, for once. “I just thought you ought to know that.” 

 

And then he turned and left, off to do the only little things he could do to make Thranduil's life a little bit easier. Trusting him wholeheartedly to build a good and strong kingdom for them all to call home. 

 

A second time. 

 

**0.0.0.0**

**Thanks for reading!**

**As always, I hope you enjoyed and I'm super excited to hear your thoughts!**

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

He awoke, though he did not understand why. The night around him seemed calm and peaceful, there was no upset elfing flinging themselves into his bed. There was not even any nagging tugging from Thranduil in the far reaches of his Fae. 

 

Even the tree’s were silent and happy 

 

Yet he had awoken from a deep sleep, the kind elves rarely had the need for. Yet, even after he had awoken, the need lingered. The need for a deep rest. 

 

So then he should not have woken if there was not a good reason. 

 

Resisting the urge to allow his eyes to glaze over again, Galion got out of bed. He didn’t bother to change or find shoes since Thranduil and Legolas’ room wasn’t far. The door between his bedroom and living area hadn't been installed yet, and so he just had to push the curtain aside to leave one nearly empty room and enter the other. 

 

At least there was finally a door between him and the outside hallway. Just as he had fully expected, the hallways was void of life except for the few slightly unhappy guards struggling through their night shift. 

 

With a yawn and a stretch Galion began to saunter down the hall, towards the only door that had two guards posted on either side of it. Although, if Ferdan had his way, it would have been at least five on each side. 

 

One of the two held out a hand for him to stop, “Lord Ferdan entered the Kings chambers near two hours ago and demanded that nobody enter after him.” 

 

Galion crossed his arms and tried not to scoff, “Well, it is a good thing that I am not nobody. I am Galion, head attendant to King Thranduil and Ferdans threats do not pertain to me.” 

 

The two guards glanced between one another. 

 

Galions patients thinned, he had obviously been around Thranduil too long. “Don’t believe me? By all means, ask for Ferdan of King Thranduil to come out and vouch for my claim.” They seemed even less thrilled about that idea. “Or you can just let me in, and if I’m lying to you, you know as well as I that Ferdan will drag me out by the tip of one ear and feed me the wargs outside, yes?” 

 

They only exchanged another confused, but fearful look. 

 

“Fantastic. Now open this door before I scream for Ferdan myself.” He gave them a sweet smile at the end of his threat, just for the fun of it. Definitely around Thranduil too long. 

 

They didn’t seem to find it as fun as he did. Either way, one inched the door open carefully and Galon slipped inside. 

 

Thranduil's own half finished sitting room was empty, but an orange light glowed  through his open doorway. Theoretically, Legolas had a room of his own. So far, that was only in theory since he had never once slept in it. Galion didn't expect this night to  be any different. 

 

In fact, he felt that it was not so. Legolas was yet too young to have learned how to hide himself from the senses of others, but Ferdan and Thranduil had both long ago fallen out of the habit of hiding themselves from Galion. Especially since they had lost their home and most of their hearts with it. 

 

It was comforting to be able to find each other for reassurance purposes whenever they wanted. 

 

So Galion knew all three of them were in the bedroom. 

 

He knocked once on the doorframe, but entered after hardly half a second. They would have felt him just as well as he had them. 

 

Thranduil laid on the bed, his head resting silent and unmoving on Ferdan’s leg as his friend continued to gently strum his lute, Legolas scrambled from beneath the covers and out of his father's arms to see their new visitor. 

 

He didn’t need to see the tears on Legolas’ face to know that it was another sad night. 

 

Galion walked to the edge of the bed and scooped Legolas up without a thought, even as he himself crawled onto the bed. He sat cross-legged on the other side of Ferdans legs from where Thranduil lay, and nested Legolas in his lap, hugging him close. “You were having a family slumber party and forgot to tell me? Im offended.” 

 

Ferdan smiled softly, even if Thranduil didn’t make any sign that he had even noticed Galion had entered. “Must have slipped our minds."  

 

"Uncle Ferdan said not to wake you." Legolas mumbled into his chest, Galion began to rub his back. 

 

"Well next time Uncle Ferdan says something ridiculous like that, spit in his eye." 

 

This time Ferdan snorted, "At least make sure you get the one that's already blind."

 

For a few minutes the only sound was Ferdans skilled fingers plucking at the lute and Galions patting Legolas' back rhythmically until Thranduil's near listless voice drifted from Ferdans lap, “I was trying to remember how to breath.” 

 

Galion kissed Legolas' head, and then patted Thranduil's hand. “Well, lucky for you, I am an excellent breather. I have to be, for all the talking I do. I can teach you.” 

 

**0.0.0.0.0.**

 

Galion glanced back into the garden for a moment as a new wave of shrieks and laughs whafted in, it appeared Ferdan had caught another elfling. The shrieks were because he had flipped them upside down and was now wiggling them around a bit.

 

Thranduil, having already probably guessed exactly what was happening without having to look tried not to smile, though his attention remained fixed on Ithrae. “Are you sure this is something you can and want to commit to? Finding somebody else for a rotation or-” 

 

“With respect, King Thranduil, I raised four boys and a girl nearly without my husband. My little girl didn’t get to leave Doraith with me, and my boys never came home from Mordor with you. I am as much an orphan as those elfings in the garden.” It was only then that she paused, unsure, “Unless you think I am unfit?” 

 

Thranduil nearly tripped over his words in his haste to disagree, “No! Never! Not at all! In fact, many times since I have had the pleasure of meeting you have I thought you a much more fit for parenting than I.” 

 

Ithrae seemed as displeased with the sentence as Galion was, and best him to a verbal chastising. “My King! In my long years, I have never heard somebody so blind to their own gifts and good work. All children need is your love and attention, and Prince Legolas has always had an overflowing amount of yours. There is much many could learn from you.” 

 

Galion knew he had liked her for a reason, Thranduil it appeared was nearly fighting a blush. He cleared his throat, “Thank you. Come, let's show everyone their new rooms, even yours. I'm sure you're all excited to see." 

 

Then he fled to the garden and clapped his hands together to get everyone's attention, Ferdan slowly put down the elfling he had been spinning in circles until her feet had left the ground. 

 

"Alright is everyone ready?" Thranduil asked. 

 

There was a general chorus is cheers from the assembled troop of elflings. Legolas meanwhile returned to his father's side immediately, pleased when Thranduil lifted him to sit upon his shoulders once more. 

 

Automatically Thranduil held out a hand for the closest orphan to take on their walk, and Avaleina gratefully attached a tiny hand to three of his fingers. "Now remember, there is enough bedrooms for each of you to choose one. So I had better not hear any squabbling about it." 

 

"Ithrae, are you staying with us?" One of the boys, Therion, asked, tugging on her skirt with wide and fearful eyes. 

 

She reached down and sat him on her hip, and kissed his cheek rapidly until he smiled. "Of course I am. King Thranduil was nice enough to put all of us in a home together." 

 

"And," Galion added, bopping Legolas on the nose, "The rest of us will be right down the hall if you need anything." 

  
  


**0.0.0.0**

 

He had felt Ferdans surprise. It wasn't accompanied by alarm or anger, so he knew nothing bad had happened. But he also knew that Ferdan was an extremely difficult person to surprise. 

 

Drawn by his own curiosity, Galion found himself at the front doors nearing Ferdans arrival. 

 

Thranduil didn't seem surprised to see him. 

 

As always, his little prince was sitting silently in his father's arms, blue eyes  ever watchful and wary.  

 

"Did he say who?" 

 

Thranduil shook his head, "Said it was a surprise." 

 

Galion fornwed. Thranduil  _ hated  _ surprises, none knew that fact as well as Ferdan. Thranduil shrugged. 

 

 The trees hummed outside and they both knew that meant Ferdan was crossing the bridge over the raging river with their guests, almost to their doors.

 

They exchanged another look and then the door banged open. 

 

First came Ferdan followed by a troop of identically dressed Elven warriors. They held no banners or flag, as was the rule now within their forest and so Galion did not immediately recognize them. 

 

But just like Ferdan, Thranduil seemed to feel only great surprise.

 

 "Celeborn?" 

 

It was only after he had the name that Galion was able pinpoint the face. He had only seen the Elven Lord a handful of times, though he had been told that he had once been a close friend of Orophers. 

 

One particularly strong looking elf melted away from the nest, and came to stand nearly directly in front of Thranduil.

 

Galion was mildly surprised Thranduil did not take a step back, being the big fan of person space that he was. But he didn't. He just continued to stare looking slightly confused and disbelieving. 

 

"What? You thought that my arguments with your father would keep me from searching these woods top to bottom after learning what happened to Amon Lanc until I found you?" Lord Celeborn snorted, "You slander my name. I would have been here for years if that's what it took."

 

“Honestly? Yes.” Thranduil began, and then rearranged Leolgas so that he could embrace the elven lord with one arm, while  still keeping Leolgas snug and happy against him. “I did in fact think it would keep you from appearing." 

 

“So did I,” Ferdan added, coming to take Legolas from Thranduil; both of them allowed it somewhat reluctantly, “If my opinion matters at all.” 

 

"Your father would have looked for me, Thranduil, if roles were reversed and he were still here."

 

"Yes, he would have." Thranduil replied easily, even while Galion sensed the waves of anxiety and sorrow rise to dangerous levels within him. Legolas glared wholeheartedly at Celeborn. "But roles are not reversed, and he's still dead. So, it doesn't matter what he would or wouldn't do, does it?" 

 

Thranduil covered every unwanted emotion with snark and anger. As far as Galion was aware, he had always done this. 

 

He had learned it from his father after all. 

 

Usually, people bristled away from Thranduil when he used that tone to match that expression, but Celeborn just came closer yey still and  he placed a hand on each side of Thranduil's face and looked into it with deep concern, “Are you alright, Oropherion?” 

 

Thranduil laughed, and laughed, and then it appeared he nearly burst into hysterical tears. “No.” 

 

“Good, I would have been significantly more concerned about you if you had tried to convince me otherwise.” He pulled Thranduil in for a hug, it seemed unwanted at first but eventually, he welcomed the familiar and calming soul that hadn’t been around since a much more peaceful time in his life and the world.

 

Legolas began struggling in Ferdans arms, kicking his legs out with all the force he could muster, “Let go!” 

 

Ferdan trapped him tighter, “Excuse me?” 

 

“Please Uncle Ferdan, please let go.” 

 

Ferdan glanced at Galion in a silent question. 

 

Galion looked over to his King and Lord Celeborn, who had begun to separate, trying to judge how well Thranduil had managed to stuff his emotions back inside. Not entirely well, it seemed to him. He looked back over to Ferdan and nodded. 

 

The second the little prince's feet were on the floor he dashed back to Thranduil’s side, tugging on his hand, “Ada.” 

 

Thranduil nestled Legolas back in his arms and held him close, briefly resting his forehead against his sons, eyes closed. And so he missed the brief shocked look on Lord Celeborns face,  “Ada?” 

 

Thranduil looked up, “Yes. This is my son, Legolas.” 

 

Celeborn smiled at Legolas, who openly glowered at the strange elf who had mad his Ada so upset. Even in the face of such tiny hatred, Celeborn still laughed a little, “I can tell. I wasn’t aware you had a son, Celebrian had only just informed me about your marriage. I appreciate the invitation, by the way.” 

 

This time it was Galion who piped up, giving Thranduil a few more moments to catch his breath. “If it helps, I was hardly invited and I was the one who performed the ceremony.” 

 

“Ah, how befitting you, Thranduil.” It seemed as if the Lord was going to continue, and Galion feared the worst. Feared that he would ask to meet Mereneth. 

 

And then Legolas interrupted flatley, “Nana’s gone. Mandos stole her.” 

 

The Lord’s mouth snapped shut his heartbreak etched into every line of his face. “Oh, Thranduil.” 

 

 Thranduil shushed Legolas quietly, pulling his head to rest under his chin and patted his back. “Come, let us speak somewhere more private. Galion could you-?” 

 

“Get his warriors food and rest? Of course.” He turned his attention to the many who had come with Lord Celeborn, “Follow me.” 

  
  


**0.0.0**

  
  


It was early, the sun hardly peaking through his bedroom window when he heard the door creak open. And then six seconds later an elfing flung themselves onto his chest. But this was accompanied by a giggle, and not sounds of distress. So Galion moaned with exaggerated pain, rubbing where it seemed twelve different elbows had assaulted him at once. “ Oh! You are getting too big for this, little prince.”

 

“I am not.” 

 

“You are. One day, one of your sharp little elbows is going to stab me like a sword.” 

 

Regardless of his words, Galion rolled from his back to his side so that he could wrap his arms around Legolas and trap him securely in his arms, and blew a raspberry on his cheek. 

 

Legolas shrieked and then laughed, “Ada is still sleeping.”

 

Galion closed his eyes against the morning sun, it was so early still and the sun was so bright, “Mhmm. What do you need?” 

 

“Ithirae is taking everyone else to go and play in the forest and go swimming, she says I can come if I ask you or Ada.” He opened his eyes again, and stared into Legolas’ impossibly expectant, but joyful, face. “Please, Galion? Pretty,  _ pretty,  _ Please?” 

 

Galion sighed and sat upright, “Turn around. Let me at least braid your hair before you run off and come back with it looking like a rats nest.” 

 

Legolas obediently and instantly sat with his back to Galion, “Does that mean I can go?” 

 

He set to work getting rid of the remnants of the braid Thranduil must have done for his son last night before bed that had since been set to ruins, and then ran his fingers through the soft blond hair to get rid of any knots that might have been lurking. 

 

Placing a hand on either side of Legolas’ face, Galion pulled it back and then closer until he could kiss the tip of his nose while his own face remained upside down Legolas’, “Yes. You can go.” 

 

“Yes!” He sat patiently for Galion to finish arranging his masterpiece, “Turn around please.” 

 

Legolas scrambled around to face him, eyes wide and ready for instructions. “Yes?” 

 

“Go and tell your Ada’s guards where you’ve gone and that you’ve already asked me. Be home before dinner at the latest. Alright?” 

 

Legolas nodded eagerly, “Yes.” 

 

Galion already highly suspected Legolas would want to return to him home to his father around lunch. Possibly before.

 

“And you be careful.” 

 

“I will.” 

 

"And listen to Ithrae and the guards." 

 

"I will." 

 

“Good.” Galion smiled at him, “Go have fun.” 

 

Kissing his cheek, Legolas dashed for the door. “I will!” 

 

After he heard it close, Galion thumbed back onto the pillow, if Thranduil was still sleeping he probably had at least an hour before he had to get up.  

 

**0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0**


	10. Chapter 10

Galion stopped suddenly behind Avaleina in the hallway when she sensed there was an elf completely unknown to her inside Thranduil's room. She turned back around then looked up to him with wide eyes, and said in a small voice, “Nevermind. I don’t need a story.” 

 

Internally, he felt Thranduil tell him to enter but still Galion remained outside and knelt down to be at eye level with her, “Come now, don’t be shy. He has never said no before.” 

 

“But..is it safe...in there?”

 

He gently took her hands, ignoring the scar that curved down the top of it from the hem of her sleeve, “Do you really think King Thranduil would let any elf in his company bring any harm to you?” 

 

“No.. but he’s with one of the outsiders. He’s from out of our forest. Away, where they don’t like us.” 

 

“His name is Lord Celeborn. He was once a good friend of King Orophers, but they went to live in different cities." 

 

He let her think about it before answering, “Why is he here?” 

 

“He is here for the same reason our friends from the Avari tribes and Radagast were here. He is here to see if we are alright.” 

 

She thought about that too. “Are we alright, Galion?” 

 

“Yes, sweet girl. We’re alright.” He stood again and put a hand on her shoulder and gently turned her back to the door, “I’ll knock if you promise to ask him yourself, yes? Lord Celeborn is a nice elf, you will see.” 

 

Galion knocked, even though he already knew he could walk in, then he opened the door. 

 

She stepped hesitantly into the room, and Galion followed, ushering her along and closer to the four who sat in front of the fire. Thranduil looked to her expectantly, and with mild concern. 

 

Galion often suspected that Thranduil always felt extra guilt that the poor little elfing who had stumbled out of the forest to them covered in ash and blood, who had held the key to find his son, had ended up finding nobody for herself. 

 

Ferdan seemed nearly as awake as the unconscious elfling in his arms, which made him smile. It had come to his attention that the Woodland Realms one and only Battle and Weapons master had spent nearly the entire day playing with the elflings at the Lake with Ithrae.  

 

He didn’t look to the Lord, but that did not mean Galion was not very aware of the way Celeborn watched the two of them closely, “Another one of yours, Thranduil? Or is this Galions?” 

 

Thranduil didn’t answer, that was still a delicate question in the hearts of every elfing that had come to be under his care officially in manner of State and in the heart. “Whats wrong, Ava?” 

 

She glanced nervously to Celeborn, still wary of his presence and might have backed up further had she not already been pressed against Galions legs. Legolas was still sleeping soundly in Ferdan’s arms, and so Thranduil had two free ones to reach for her, “Come here, little thing.” 

 

Still carefully monitoring that Celeborn made no drastic movements, she quickly ran to Thranduil where she knew that she would be safe. Thranduil, who continued to wholeheartedly ignore Celeborn, which the Lord did not seem troubled nor surprised by. “What is your question for me?” 

 

She looked back to their visitor, and shrank closer against Thranduil. Her voice was somehow smaller than her body. “Ithrae is reading a story to everybody else, but my Nana used to tell me that story…” She trailed off when her eyes began to swim with tears and she sniffed, “I like the stories you tell us about Doriath, I was going to ask if you could tell me one.” 

 

Remembering herself and the stranger in the room, she tried to put on a brave face. “But it's okay if you’re busy.” 

 

Thranduil quickly wiped the few tears that appeared without comment, and then lifted her to sit in his lap. “I’m never too busy for stories, however, do you want to know who’s really good at telling stories?” 

 

“Who?” Avaleina asked, happily pulling the blanket Thranduil draped over her against her face. Peering out over the top of it with wide green eyes. 

 

“Lord Celeborn, he would remember more about Doraith than I. Maybe if you ask him nicely he will tell you one.” Thranduil turned from the elfing to Celeborn, his eyes almost as wide and expecting as any other elfing might have been. Galion wondered when the last time Thranduil had allowed himself to look as such. 

 

Avaleina meanwhile turned hesitant eyes to the Lord, and Celeborn smiled with all the warmth of the sun. At least that seemed to finally encourage her, and she let Thranduil peel the blanket away from he mouth so that her voice was clearer, “Lord Celeborn, would you please tell me a story? Any story you like? Even just a really little one?” 

 

Galion crossed the room to the fire and added a few logs to keep the warmth and light at good levels, then closed the window as a summer storm rolled in to keep the breeze from whipping the curtains and the room. 

 

“Of course I can tell you a story. I will tell you one that used to be one of my daughter Celebrians favorites, are you ready?” 

 

She nodded eagerly and nestled closer to Thranduil, and Galion sat on the ground near the fireplace, just as eager to listen. Celeborn leaned forward in his chair and began his tale. 

 

**0.00.0.**

 

Celeborn told stories well into the night, long after Avaleina had fallen asleep, and Galion could tell it was because he liked the more peaceful expression Thranduil had adopted since he had begun telling them.  

 

Galion could relate to that particular motivation. 

 

All of them were void of any war of battle, death or hurt. These stories were of lighthearted friends and peaceful adventures. They were peaceful. They spoke of a time and a city where Galion could really see it creating the force of nature that had come to be known as Thranduil. 

 

His King. 

 

But eventually, it became clear that even Thranduil was near struggling to stay awake, and so when another story came to an end, Celeborn added, "And with that, I do believe you should take your son and go to bed, Thranduil." 

 

Galion pried himself from the rug and managed a stretch. Reaching over he managed to wrangle Legolas away from Ferdans protective grasp and then carried him over to Thranduil. "Here, I will take her to her bed, and then show Lord Celeborn back to his room." 

 

They carefully exchanged elflings.

 

Hushed goodnight were exchanged between all parties, except for Ferdan, who seemed content to simply refuse to wake up. Thranduil threw a blanket over his long time friend, adjusted his head to a better position come the morning, and then made for his nearly finished bedroom. 

 

Celeborn, meanwhile, held open the door back out to the hallway for Galion, he nodded with thanks. The two fell into silent steps with one another. Only a few doors down, he came to a stop and indicated with his head for the Lord to open it again, he did so happily. 

 

Galion stepped inside, and wasn’t entirely surprised when Celeborn did too. 

 

The main living space was empty and out of the six bedroom doors, only two of them were closed. Ithrae’s was never closed, in case an elfling should call for her in the middle of the night. Several different books, toys and stuffed animals littered the floor and couches, complete with several abandoned blankets keeping guard against the night. 

 

Galion stepped over one of the stuffed toys and began to carry Avaleina to her bedroom. But 

Ithrae must have heard or sense them because she appeared in her doorway to investigate, looking significantly less ready to scold once she realized who it was.

 

She stepped out and towards Galion to cut off his path, nightgown breezing across her bare feet and ankles. Easily Galion passed Avaleina to her when she reached and was close enough to do so safely, the elfing stirred only a little bit but quickly went back to sleep after a single kiss upon her head. “She still doesn't sleep the entire night alone, its already late, it’ll just be easier if I take her now.” 

 

“As you say.” Galion bowed with exaggerated flourish. 

 

Ithrae examined him with a hint of humor,“Since when did you begin bowing to a stablehand?” 

 

“When the stable hand came to be of direct high importance to the Realm and the King.” 

 

She rolled her eyes and absently rocked the elfing in her arms, “Uh huh. One day, your mouth will run too fast for your mind to catch up.” 

 

Galion smiled at her, “One day.” 

 

“Goodnight Galion.” 

 

“Godonight.” 

 

And then he slipped back outside to the hallway, holding the door open for Celeborn to follow. He got one final glimpse of Ithrae vanishing back into her bedroom before he closed the door with a soft click. The guard posted outside the door gave him a courteous nod. 

 

They set off again. This time to Galion dismay, apparently, not in silence. It was Celeborn who broke it, “Thranduil’s a difficult person, always has been.” 

 

He didn’t bother to mention that Thranduil really was not that difficult, if only you paid attention to what frustrated him. He didn’t point it out because he had long since learned that vagueness and smalltalk frustrated Thranduil, yet most elves seemed to insist upon only that for avenues of conversation. And so instead Galion settled for saying, “I appreciate the warning, but I’ve already noticed.”

 

“Once many years ago, when Thranduil was only a breath past his majority, I told Oropher the very same thing about his son that I just told you.” 

 

Galion snorted, “He agreed, didn’t he?” 

 

If there was any sentient creature to have ever existed to understand the depths and hills of Thranduil’s love an tempers, it was Oropher. 

 

“Oh, absolutely. Immediately.” Celeborn had  laughed at his comment, but smiled wistfully at the memory. “But then, he told me that ‘You either love Thranduil or you hate him, and even sometimes when you love him you still hate him. But the few who take the time to know him, love him and accept him, they will be worth more than any vault full of Silamirls 

 

Galion remained silent, he never knew how to make small talk with elves deemed important by other important elves. All of which were apparently more important than Galion himself. 

 

 But it appeared this Lord at least had a plan, a reason to bring it up in the first place. 

 

“I have met you very little, Galion. But I have heard much, and exactly none of it has been from Thranduil. Which, considering how long you have been serving, means that he cares very deeply for you. Oropher may have cursed you, but I think he also spoke about you too, all those years ago before he even knew your name.” 

 

Galion had never been so thankful to reach a door in his life, he turned to stand next to it. “Thranduil is the absolute bain of my existence, and the most frustrating person I have ever met. And sometimes, when he’s really bored, I’m certain he annoys me on purpose. He had a short temper, no patient bone in his entire body, yells too much for his own good and is so stubborn I don’t know how he hasn’t figured out how to stop time.” 

 

Celeborn just looked on with open interest, and so Galion found himself continuing before his senses could inform him what a bad decision that could be. “Yet I’ve never even heard of another soul so singularly dedicated to making the lives of those that depend upon him, and the love he has for Legolas shines brighter than anything Eru could ever create. He asks for nothing, but gives everything no matter the personal cost. He is the only person elf of standing I have ever held any true respect for, and now he owns all of it.”

 

More words had come out than he had intended, and it had come out with more sincerity than he had wanted either. And so he added with a lame attempt at humor, “Plus, his son is very cute and he pays me decently.” 

 

Lord Celeborn opened the door and stepped past Galion and into the room. But in the threshold he paused, and so Galion lingered as well, waiting for instruction. He was an attendant after all. “He’s good. Pure and simply good. The world needs him, and so do many others. He’s king of hundreds, but he relies only on you. I was worried that perhaps you weren't fully aware of your position in his life and his heart, but I see now that was a foolish thought. Goodnight, Galion.” 

 

“Goodnight, Lord Celeborn.” 

 

The door closed softly, and Galion stood in stunned silence for several long seconds before he shook himself free and began to make his way back exactly where he had just come. But this time, the destination being his own bed. 

 

**0.0.0.0.0.0.**

 

**Thanks for reading!!!**

**I would be soooo grateful if you left me a review of your thoughts or reactions!**


End file.
